


meeting you (twice and more)

by Ser_Renity



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: F/F, Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 04:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12335499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ser_Renity/pseuds/Ser_Renity
Summary: Jill saved someone's life that day.





	meeting you (twice and more)

**Author's Note:**

> I have a very troubled history with this fandom.  
> I used to write terrible terrible fics about it where I killed a lot of characters off who didn't deserve to be treated that way and did a lot of bad shit to others just because I could and just because I used to stan for a dude so hard I couldn't really see where I was headed.  
> So this is an apology of sorts, a fix-it too because Rachel was killed and sexualized even in death and that never sat right with me.

* * *

 

 

A ship like this felt alive out here in the ocean.

  
The way it groaned when the waves hit its hull, the whirring of mechanism deep in its frame unseen to the human eye.

  
Jill had many such things on her mind as she walked down the narrow corridors- it came with the routine at this point; with a virus arrived questions of her own mortality, of her role in all these hells. It was a visceral sort of thinking, none of those Dante-quoting dramatics her enemies loved so much.

  
No, she just thought about death in these hallways because it was so prevalent, right before her eyes out here on the ocean in a metal chunk of a boat, a wreck if she had ever seen one.

  
A new kind of virus as well- as if there weren’t enough out there by now and even more people to abuse its powers. T-Abyss had taken its root in the Queen Zenobia and she would go to the source, rip it out, find more than just a way out of this alive.

  
Jill took her time exploring because the spongy flesh of the infected creatures was everywhere around her; they stumbled out of lockers and around bed frames, made their way towards her with troubling determination.

  
Of course she could hold her own but she knew just as well that a wrong step could be her last in this place. Caution was important; following a ritual. Her therapist once said the same.

  
It had been Chris who told her to go seek professional help, backed up by Rebecca who tried to put on a very stern face when she gave her piece of advice. Both of them were not exactly paragons of mental health but they did have a point- so Jill gave it a shot. Couldn’t be worse than what she had seen, anyway.

  
One of the first helpful things she was told was not to go back to her job.

  
“Find something that gives you peace,” they said, “Something that is unrelated to your current occupation. Preferably something that involves creating.”

  
“Creating what?” Jill asked. There was little doubt in her mind she would not be able to follow whatever came next.

  
“Anything. Painting, cooking, gardening. Anything that gives you the opportunity to build things instead of destroying them.”

  
But there she was, on a boat with a gun in hand waiting for the next target to turn the corner. They always did, in the end.

  
Her footsteps echoed on the metal floor and she felt exposed out here with just her handgun and a few bullets. The rest of her gear was still on that small boat they used to come here.

  
“You do these things so others don’t have to,” her therapist said once, “That’s a noble reason to fight, if ill-advised.”

  
Jill did not consider herself to be a hero- she was capable of doing this job and so she would, alone if she had to.

  
Out here she smelled the sea and heard its waves, sloshing and spewing spume into the salty air. It roared out there but she did not think for a second that inside was a safer place to be.

  
She had seen the monsters on this boat- bloated grey corpses with tentacles instead of faces, suction cups on elongated tongues, ready to latch onto her neck and tear out what they could. Their movement was uncontrolled, a staggering walk that put her mind at ease at least somewhat. If they were slow they could be killed before they ever got to her. All she had to do was to be quicker than them.

  
Jill had trained all her life for this- it stuck, all that practice before and after S.T.A.R.S., timeless skills honed after years and years of trial and error.

  
So when there was a sound she was prepared and so was her gun.

  
Her first bullet hit the creature’s neck, the second landed right where its eyes would be.

  
It stumbled, dazed from the impact. Jill saw her chance and took it, sprinted in and delivered a swift kick to its chest. When it fell there was another chance to take- a knife to the throat, a long slice down from there. Even these creatures were made of flesh. They could bleed and bleed they did.

  
It was done just like that- and wasn’t that a thought, all those artificial creatures bred for battle fell to a simple human. Jill was not the kind of person to see the zombies and monsters she encountered as the next form of life and the virus as a possibility- but she knew others did. The very people she was fighting right this instant would speak of evolution and other excuses for their cruelty.

  
Jill moved on. She always did.

  
There were stairs leading down to the lower levels of the ship. Pipes followed them down and so were some of the gruesome noises she heard from all around her. Something was down there and she would need to investigate it- like those silly people in horror movies who had to check out the suspicious activity in the basement.

  
Jill jogged down the first flight of stairs. More noises. A voice, too.

  
She started running instinctively. What if it was Chris? What if Parker had found a different way down here and ran into trouble? It was an instinct, the need to help and rescue. Like she was rescued, too, out of trap rooms and the claws of monsters.

  
So when she reached a room with glass windows and another horde of the undead she reacted instinctively, too- her gun ready and aimed at them, looking for that opening.

  
However, among the creatures was someone else, too, a figure that looked human enough for her to hesitate and save a bullet.

  
“You alright?” she called out to them, on the other side of the enemies, “Hold on, I’m here to help-”

  
“Then you better hurry up before they rip me to shreds!” they called back and it was a woman’s voice, rough and exhausted.

  
Jill took the advice to heart and started shooting again- the woman did too, with an SMG. Precise sprays of bullets, perfect for crowd control. It was strange, working with a partner again when it had been a while.

  
The creatures didn’t last long- they fell with a wet splashing noise, spraying their bodily fluids everywhere and dissolving into a grey puddle.

  
Jill took a deep breath.

  
“Who are you?” she asked then, lowering her gun for the first time since she got on this ship, “And what are you doing in a place like this?”

  
The woman was wearing a similar outfit to her own- there was little chance she was a civilian if she was dressed like a task force member, dark blue from neck to toe, practical and resistant.

  
“I could ask you the same thing,” the woman replied and pushed her blonde hair away from her face harshly.

  
“My name is Jill Valentine,” Jill said, tired of the suspicion, “I am with the BSAA. I am looking for an agent that has gone missing.”

  
The woman cocked her head and there were freckles all over her nose, a mole close to her lower lip. She was pretty even when injured.

  
“Rachel Foley,” she said after a second of hesitation, “FBC. Me and my partner were investigating this ship but we got separated. I have been running from those damn creatures for a good while. They don’t pay enough for this shit.”

  
It almost made Jill laugh; what a strange comment in a situation like this, almost like flirting in a way. Seeking approval.

  
“I’ll buy you a drink if we make it out of here,” Rachel added, “For saving my life and all. And because you are cute, Jill Valentine.”

  
Jill blushed. It was the first thing that took her off guard.

 

* * *

 

 

They did get that drink, way later and after all mysteries and conspiracies were uncovered.

  
“Y’know,” Rachel said with her fingers tapping away on the bar counter, “I didn’t think I was gonna make it out of that boat.”

  
“Well, you did.”

  
“Thanks to you.”

  
Her fingers reached Jill’s and she let their hands touch for a long moment, an intimate moment.

  
Jill blushed then, too, and it showed on her face; Rachel laughed, happy and carefree, not as pessimistic as she was on missions.

  
“You are even cuter when not covered in zombie goop,” she said, “My hero.”

  
Jill felt like one, then, for the first time.

 

* * *

 


End file.
